Willow
by Nicholas de Vilance
Summary: [Willow] I added a character and went more in depth with what happened to Madmartigan as opposed to Willow. I didn't write the end. You want see the end? Watch the movie.


Disclaimer: I own nothing...NOTHING!

Sumary: Willow I added a shapeshifter and went more in depth of what happens to Madmartigan instead of what happens to Willow during the movie. I didn't write the end of the movie. You want to know the end? Watch the movie.

Author's note: I'm bored...save me.

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* * *

****Johllee**_

So I kicked his foot a few times, big deal. I thought he was dead, what can I say. I hadn't seen some one—least of all a Daikini—in a crow's cage at the crossroads that still had enough breath to speak, let alone yell. He didn't need to bite my head off.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed as he sat up so quickly and violently that his cage rocked on its chain; his eyes shot open, so blue and clear they seemed the only clean thing on his person. I backed away, for a second I thought he could jump out and hurt me—then I remembered he was behind bars. "What the hell'd you do that for? Who the hell _are_ you? Where the hell am I?" He was strange looking, being that he had very long, black hair.

"Um…" I muttered, quite flabbergasted by his overuse of the word "hell." I stretched my neck to one side and felt a comforting pop. "One question at a time. I don't even think I should answer you. You're so rude." I turned to walk away.

"Oh, I get it," he said, "You're a runaway slave." Apparently he noticed the shackles that held my red wrists together. I turned and looked back at him with what I hoped was a deadly glare. It was hard to glare at some one as pathetic as a man in a cage looking as though he hadn't eaten—or bathed for that matter—in weeks.

I felt the top of my dress rubbing against my throat again, so I tried to pull it down through the back of my coat—my disability being rather…disabling. "I am _not!_" I practically shouted, "I'm a person just like you!" Then I calmed myself and smirked. "Except, perhaps, for a few luxuries I possess that you don't. Like walking, for instance."

"And kicking!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby. I was just checking. I really haven't seen someone in here that still had his flesh. Take a look at the poor fellow in the cage next to you." The other cage was a little higher and so the skeleton inside was more exposed to the setting sun. Unfortunately, this made every detail of rotting skin and muscle visible. The blue-eyed man gulped, as if he foresaw, in the dead man, his future. "I wish I had use of my hands, he'd look a lot better if he were a patch of flowers."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned against the rusty bars of his prison, making it creak a little. "Just what are you, exactly?"

I smiled, pulling together a dramatic introduction. "I…" I began, "I am nobody. And I am everybody. I am nothing and everything. I am anything you could wish me to be and anything _I_ could wish myself to become." I bowed my head at him. "I am Johllee."

"You're a shape shifter?"

"Yes," I said proudly. Then my pride faded with the recollection of my current state. "Unfortunately, in this position, I can't shift shapes, let alone do anything else. I need my hands. And who are you, since you now know me?"

"Madmartigan," he replied, "hey, you wouldn't happen to have any water would you?"

"Do I look like some one who would have water?" I turned around and showed him my hands again, "even if I did, how would I give it to you?" I turned back around, wondering if I could get dizzy from all of this turning. Then an idea struck me. "Can you pick a lock?" I asked him. How I went from dizziness to lock picking is truly beyond me.

He sat back on the furs that were the remnants of some one's clothes, probably the guy who was in there before him. "Maybe," he said, mischievously, "Why?"

"Will you pick the lock on my shackles? Without use of my hands I'm helpless if anyone catches me. I don't want to be hanged." I was pleading with him now, though I wouldn't have admitted it until about a year later. "Please! I am a runaway slave. I was entertainment for the king of Galladoorn. If they find me…oh I don't want to think about it."

He picked his teeth idly, not at all touched by my story. "What's in it for me, huh?"

I stopped myself from saying something rude, being that he really was my only hope at the moment. Man, I didn't realize how much lack of respect a woman gets. I wouldn't have chosen that form if I had. "I'll let you out of that cage," I said quickly, stepping closer. "Just get these binds off of me and I'll let you out and help you find some water if you want. Please!"

"How do I know you're not gonna just take off as soon as I free you?"

I thought for a moment. It's true; I was a stranger to him and had no right demanding his trust. "How do I know you won't just kill me if I do let you out? Some one put you in there for a reason, right?" He looked away from me in thought for a while. "I can put a little faith in a stranger. Besides, you're not really that much a stranger anymore, are you, Madmartigan?"

He shrugged and looked off to the side, supposedly contemplating my offer further. I think he was just trying to seem difficult. Suddenly, he dug around in the furs beneath him and produced a tiny needle. "His wife was a seamstress," he said, sounding bored, "Come here, but you have to promise not to go back on your word."

"Promise!" I was practically jumping for joy. I stopped jumping as soon as he yelled that I was making it hard to get the needle in the lock. He stuck my finger on purpose to get his point across. "Ow, you jerk!"

"Well, it's your own fault," he said quietly. I heard a click and two metal loops were replaced by rough hands that held me in place. He spoke in my ear. "Now, for your end of the deal."

"Alright, fine," I said. I looked for any lock that held the cage. In fact, I couldn't figure out where the cage even opened up. Then I found it. The bottom must've opened because there was a lock on both sides at the hinges. "Oh, now that's sad," I commented on the rusted state of the locks. I picked up a rather large stick and knocked off a lock, chain reaction being that the other lock broke from all the weight being shifted onto it. The bottom fell out along with a rather happy Madmartigan.

"Yes!" he exclaimed as soon as he could stand up straight. "Man it feels great to be out of there!" He jumped around a bit, exercising his underused limbs and making a great ruckus of glad shouts. At one point he grabbed me and picked me up off my feet and swung me around. It took me a while to gather my wits about me once he had put me back on my feet.

"How long have you been in there?" I asked, interrupting his happy-dance.

He suddenly stopped and thought, then lifted his hand to count by fingers. "About six days," he said, "I was caught trying to steal food. That's the last thing you'd attempt to steal. 'Gold? Take it, but leave my precious jerky!' It makes me angry." He hesitated, as if to say something, then turned and walked away down the road in a random direction. "Thanks, see ya."

Has anyone ever felt the need for a little company when traveling alone? I walked after him. "Hey, Madmartigan," I called, "Can I come with you?"

"Well, where are you going?"

"Where are _you_ going?"

"I'm not sure," he said, "I guess I wouldn't mind if you tagged along for a bit." He continued walking, I plodded along, happy to have a companion. "I have a question:" he said, "If you can be any shape you like, what gender are you?"

I was taken aback. To tell the truth, I hadn't really thought of that before, it had never really crossed my mind. I thought for a second. "Neither, I guess," I settled with that, "or both. I'm not sure. But I'm not male or female. That's why I'm a shapeshifter. No one knows what exactly I am. I have a question for you: Do you want a haircut?"

He socked me in the shoulder with a wry smile. "I like my hair, thank you very much."

_It is a time of dread. Seers have foretold the birth of a female child who will bring about the downfall of the powerful queen Bavmorda. Seizing all pregnant women in the realm, the evil queen vows to destroy the child when it is born. One hundred births and one and still no sign of the child of the prophecy. Each woman in the dungeons dreads the birth of the child they had once longed for. Until, on a thunderous night, a baby girl was born with the mark of the omen on her arm. The queen plans a ritual to banish the child's soul to the netherworld. Unexpectedly, the infant disappears and the search begins…_

"It's a load of crap, Johllee, and you know it," Madmartigan said. It seemed that he didn't mind interrupting even a meal to criticize me on my so-called "overactive imagination." He had no idea. "And why the hell are you a dog?"

"I happen to like dogs," I said, lifting my head from my paw to glance at him with a gloomy, puppy-dog look. "Why don't you believe in the prophecy? It is true, you know."

"How would you know that?"

I didn't answer right away, just laid my head back on my paw and stared into the fire. "My mother was pregnant at the time of the search," I stated, "She was taken and locked up. That was almost half a year ago, and I haven't seen her since. They say that the mother of the fugitive infant was killed. Do you think…?" I didn't dare finish that thought.

Apparently Madmartigan knew when not to make jokes and snide remarks. He moved to sit next to me and scratched my ears as if I was his pet. "Nah, I don't think anything that gave birth to you could give birth to our savior." It was an insult, but he said it so kindly, I didn't mind.

"Madmartigan," I muttered. I stood on my four legs and rolled onto my back. "Would you rub my belly?"

He smacked his forehead with his palm and laughed, but was obliged to do as I asked anyway. "You really are something," he said, "You crazy shapeshifter." He stopped suddenly and looked around as if he'd heard something. Just because I was the shape of a dog didn't mean I had a dog's hearing.

"What?" I asked. I rolled back over sloppily and changed form. I was person again, male this time. "What is it?"  
"Uh…" Madmartigan hesitated to answer and I had the feeling he was going to tell me something that was not good news. "Did I forget to mention that it's illegal to camp out in this part of the woods? I didn't think they sent patrols out at night. Ow!"

I had smacked him upside the head with my boot and was then in the process of putting it back on when I heard a faint voice. "Smoke!" it said, "someone's lit a fire!" I helped Madmartigan put the fire out and packed up the bag I had chosen to carry with me during the month he and I had been traveling together. "I can see now why you always end up in trouble," I growled at him.

"Not now, let's just go!"

I hate stories like these. Does the good guy ever _really_ have it made? No! The only time things go right is at the very end. In the case of eluding the night patrol of _that part of the forest_, this in fact was not the end of our story. Madmartigan was back in his favorite crow's cage at the crossroads and me…I was on the ground, chained by the neck to the base of his prison with my hands once again shackled behind my back. Isn't it great how things like this work out? I refused to be put in the cage that still held the decaying man from when Madmartigan and I first met. They decided to give up on trying to force me (I can be quite a little hell raiser) and arranged me the way that was described before.

"Madmartigan," I said quietly on the second day of sitting, unable to do anything, against a pile of what I thought was dead things and clothes. It wouldn't have mattered any other way. "I'm going to hurt you so severely, you won't be able to walk straight. Just wait 'till we get out of this."

"Shut it, you're not helping," he muttered. He was sitting to still that I would've thought he was dead if he didn't talk to me.

I was silent for a bit. "Madmartigan," I said at length, "I'm thirsty."

"What am I supposed to do about that?" he snapped, obviously annoyed at my chatter, "Neither of us have water."

I knew he was right, so I didn't reply. I just let the silence fall. I pulled a few pieces of the ragged cloth over me—the days were colder than usual—and lay still. Soon, I was asleep. I was in one of those dreams where one knows he is asleep. I'm not quite sure what it was about, but my mother was in it—along with some chocolate, a rat and a few tiny, brownie-sized Madmartigans…Maybe he's right. Maybe I am a crazy shapeshifter.

It was a clatter that awoke me, but I didn't move. I could barely see past Madmartigan's cage, but I did see a few small people starting a campfire. "Nelwyns?" I whispered, "Out here?"

Madmartigan shushed me. "Quiet!" he demanded, "They might have water, but I'm getting it my way, alright?"

"You always do things your way, what does it matter?"

"Shh!"

I heard him make this really obnoxious noise that sound kind of like a cat dying. The Nelwyns started, all very wary. They went for their spears, expecting some great beast to come and attack them. Nope, just Madmartigan. The shortest one inched closer little by little to my friend's cage. "There's something out there," one of them said. The largest one—both vertically and horizontally.

I heard a little yelp and my attention was turned back to Madmartigan, who was holding the little one by the front of his shirt. "Give me some water, peck," he said, "or you die." The little Nelwyn looked terrified, but he nodded. Madmartigan dropped him and the poor little dear scurried back over to his friends. "Come on! Give me some water, you measly little pecks!"

I laughed, my dry, sore throat scratching a little. "Oh, I'm awed by your astounding persuasive skills, Madmartigan!" I mocked him. I was once again the woman that had met him just a month before in this place. I had changed just before our captors had bound my hands. "Please, do say something else, you're intelligence intrigues me!" He spat at me, narrowly missing my face. "Stop being so grumpy!" I muttered.

I heard them talking amongst themselves. "It's a Daikini," the fat one said, "Two, in fact, we're in luck."

The little one shook his head. "We can't give her to them!" he exclaimed. _Her_ who? This was getting a little more interesting.

A shy-looking one spoke up. "Somebody put them there for a reason!"

"We've got to get rid of her," the fat one retorted, "Those soldiers are after us."

The shy one shushed them. "They're watching us," he said quietly. They all glanced at us for a moment. Then a taller one turned back at the shy one. "We've got to give that baby to somebody," he hissed.

"I'm somebody," Madmartigan said.

I scoffed and kicked his cage. "You don't the difference between a baby and a parakeet," I said, "I do. I could take care of the little one!" I was sitting up then. I felt Madmartigan's hand push me back.

"Let me out of here, I'll take care of the baby," he said, "Ignore him…her. She's a bit nutty." He looked back at me with a glare. There was a silence and then I heard them start speaking again.

It was the fat one that seemed all for leaving the child in the grubby hands of this thief. "I trust him completely," he said.

"But he tried to strangle me!" the little one shot back.

"I want to go home!"

"No, Burglekutt!" the small one persisted. He seemed to be getting angrier and angrier. He must really care about that little child. Then it suddenly occurred to me that he said the baby was female. Nah, it couldn't be. "We should wait!"

Burglekutt stood up straight, showing that he was the tallest in the group and stuck out his chest, trying to be intimidating. "Are you challenging my authority?" he demanded.

The short one wasn't fazed. "As far as this baby's concerned…yes," he stated.

"Don't listen to him, Burglekutt!" Madmartigan said, slamming his back against the bars. I was about to tell him not to interfere when I got was he was trying to do. Obviously the fat one was in charge. Win him over and they'd probably let him go. If they let him go, he'd sure as hell better help me!

"Fine," Burglekutt said to the littlest one, ignoring the caged Daikini. "You stay here alone, but we're going." Damn, he can't leave. Then we really are screwed.

"That's a bad idea!" I called over to him, "Very bad."

"Yeah," Madmartigan agreed, "it's very dangerous out there."

Burglekutt ignored him. He made his commands and started packing his things. My hope was fading as I watched them start to pack. Then the little one stopped the one that, now that I think of it, resembled a warrior. A very _small_ warrior, but still… "Vohnkar—" he began.

"It's not his decision!" Burglekutt spat.

"Burglekutt, you're troll dung!" That little guy was really feisty, but I wasn't on his side in this.

"Don't let him talk to you that way, Burglekutt!" Madmartigan said. He wasn't doing a very good job of convincing them to let us go.

He was once again ignored though. Burglekutt grabbed the small one by his shirt and spoke in a most rude tone. "Listen here, Willow," he growled, "While you're wasting your time here, your fields aren't getting planted." That's about where I think I felt pity for the short guy. "Think about it." Willow began a threat. "You're gonna what?" He didn't answer. Burglekutt laughed in his face and turned his back.

"Someday, Burglekutt!" Willow threatened, "Someday!"

The company started to leave. Apparently it was the shy one—Meegosh—that stayed with Willow. Madmartigan and I continued to try and bargain our way free. "Burglekutt," Madmartigan said, "Let me out of here, I'll take care of the baby, I swear!" They ignored him. How is it possible to ignore something as obnoxious as Madmartigan? "Just let me out of here! Please! Vohnkar, let me borrow that spear…just for a minute." They continued to pass.

"Well at least get us some water!" I shouted, frustrated with the whole ordeal. "Oh come on. Don't leave me alone with these three!" I heard a laugh and then they were gone.

Madmartigan socked me in the head—not hard, but enough to tick me off. "Just who's side are you on, anyway?" he hissed.

I bit his hand, and after he yelled and cursed a bit I let him go and ignored the rest of his complaints. "What are we going to do now," Meegosh said. Willow didn't have an answer. Madmartigan did.

"Well, that was really stupid, peck."

"Don't call me a peck!" Willow demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry…peck." He spat the word as if it put a bad taste in his mouth. "Peck, peck, peck, peck, peck, peck!" I joined him on the last few, just to taunt.

"You be careful," the Nelwyn said. He took something out of his purse. "I'm a powerful sorcerer. See this acorn? I'll throw it at you and turn you to stone!" …Now that's pretty damn hilarious. We're supposed to be scare of an acorn-wielding Nelwyn.

"Oh, I'm really scared," I taunted; I sat up on my legs and leaned forward towards him. "Your frightening. All three feet of you! Please don't! Help! There's a peck here with an _acorn pointed at me!_" I never thought I could be so sarcastic and hateful…well, when you're grumpy.

The Nelwyn glared at me and put it back in his purse. "Oh, I wouldn't want to waste it," he muttered. Madmartigan laughed and sat back, each movement he made, made the cage sway a little closer to me.

"Peck," he said. "Peck, peck, peck, peck, _peck!_"

"Stupid peck!" I growled and went silent. Wow, we really screwed that up. Now how were we going to get out of there? How were we to get water? I swallowed, but the dryness in my throat made it hurt to do so. "Madmartigan," I whispered, quietly, "I'm thirsty."

"Well what the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

I'm not sure when I fell asleep that night, but I know that I woke up sometime late in the morning when a horse and rider rode on past. My arms were stiff and they hurt as I tried to push myself up with my elbows. I began to wonder if my arms would ever work, even if I did get freed. I looked up at Madmartigan, who was cleaning his teeth with a piece of leather. He was watching the Nelwyns. "Mornin' boys," he said, stoically, "Rough night last night, wasn't it?"

Meegosh, the shy one, I remembered, stood and nodded his head as if he were scared of Madmartigan. Then again, if I were only three feet tall, I suppose I'd be scare of him too. "I don't think I introduced myself yesterday," The Daikini went on. "My name is Madmartigan. This is the great Johllee, the shapeshifter. And you are…uh…" He reached his hand through the bars as if he expected a handshake.

Meegosh was about to come over and shake his hand and introduce himself properly when Willow stopped him. "No, Meegosh," he said, "Don't go near them, they're dangerous."

"I am not," Madmartigan said.

"He is too," I said out of spite. "He got me into this mess. Please, just see if you can set me free. I'll watch over that little baby." My comment was ignored because another horse was heard approaching.

Willow tried to flag the rider down, but almost got trampled instead. He ducked out of the way just in time and rolled somewhere near my feet. I couldn't help but laugh and I heard Madmartigan chuckling as well. There was something strange in the air. The Nelwyn noticed it too. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Smells like a battle," I said, "Don't you think?" I looked up at Madmartigan who nodded and stuck his legs through the bars at the bottom of the cage.

"Oh I suppose you're warriors," Willow said, "You and the woman."

"I am the greatest swordsman that ever lived," Madmartigan shot back, "and that isn't a woman. He…she's a shapeshifter." He could never keep the pronouns right, even when I held a shape for a long while.

Willow wasn't convinced of either stories. As he walked back to his fire pit, I noticed he was picking up a cup. He poured water into it. I nearly died at the sight of it. "Say, uh…" I began, "could I have some of that water?" The little peck just glared at me from the corner of his eye and sipped it noisily.

Madmartigan started to get really annoyed. Then he just sat back and held his head in his hands. Now, I know fake sobs when I hear them—you'd have to be a damn good actor to convince me—but he did a good enough job to convince Nelwyns. "I don't know why I even try," he said through sobs. It was pretty good. "I guess I _am_ gonna die in here. Who cares?"

I saw Willow get up and walk towards him; he looked like he had pity. That's a good thing. He offered the cup to the crying Daikini. "Here," he said.

Madmartigan's act came to an abrupt stop and he reached for the cup. "Thanks, friend," he said. Then the Nelwyn was distracted by a low rumble and Madmartigan just narrowly missed the cup as the peck walked away to see what was going on. "Oh, come on!"

"What's that," Willow asked. I found myself trying to reach for the cup with my teeth, but the chain that connected my neck to Madmartigan's cage wasn't long enough. "I'd say about two or three hundred horses," I said, trying to reach the cup still.

Madmartigan grabbed my chain and tried to use me as leverage to get his cage closer to the peck. "Five or six wagons," he continued for me when I choked on the sudden movement of the iron collar around my neck. "And about a thousand fools."

"A thousand and one!" I snarled. My teeth clamped down on his leg and he cried out in pain. One of the skills I pride myself on it the rearranging of muscles in my body. It isn't changing shape, so I don't need my hands, but it does allow my jaw to open wider so I can fit an ankle between my teeth.

Willow held the cup up to Madmartigan, who tried to grab it, but ended up spilling it everywhere when the Nelwyn let go and went to fetch the baby. I lapped up water before it soaked into the ground. I probably looked pathetic, but I got some water.

When I looked up there was a procession of soldiers going down the road. One man whom road a white horse stopped near the cage. "Excuse me, sir," Willow said, holding the baby protectively, "We found one of your babies in our village. Will you please take care of her?"

The man took off his helmet and I recognized him as Airk of Galladoorn. "We're going into battle little ones," he said, "find a woman to take care of her." He could get me in a lot more trouble, so I tried to hide myself from him. I glanced a Madmartigan for a distraction from me. He nodded and turned to the horse rider.

"They thought you _were_ a woman, Airk," he said as I pushed myself behind his cage. Then something hit me—figuratively, mind you. Madmartigan _knew_ this man? This was interesting.

Airk turned quickly, looking for who said it. He laughed when he saw the poor man in the cage. "Well," he said, "Madmartigan. What'd you do this time?"

"Nothing you wouldn't have done in my place."

"I always knew you'd end up in a crow's cage."

"At least I'm not down there herding sheep. What are you doing this far north?"

"The Nockmaar army destroyed Galladoorn." I perked up at this. I wasn't in trouble after all.

"The castle," Madmartigan asked, dumbly.

"No, the tea, you idiot!" I hissed sarcastically.

Airk didn't seem to hear me. "Bavmorda's troops crushing everything in sight."

Madmartigan seemed more restless now. "Come on," he said, "Let me out of here, Airk. Give me a sword, I'll win this war for you."

"Madmartigan—" Airk said, rather mockingly, "I still serve Galladoorn. You server no one. Remember? Sit in your coffin and rot." He put his helmet back on and put his horse at a trot.

"Wait, Airk," Madmartigan called after him, "You need me!" The soldier got farther away. "I'll be around long after you're dead!" Still farther. "When I get out of here, I'm gonna cut off your head and stick it on a pig pole!" Airk was gone.

"Nice work," I muttered to him, "Now they're really gonna let us out. Genius!" Once everyone was gone I wriggled out from behind Madmartigan's cage and lay on the ground, sighing. "I want to die, just kill me now."

I heard the Nelwyn say something about what I assumed to be his family. I don't know what the hell bobbins are, but they might be what a Nelwyn calls his children.

"No one's gonna take care of that baby," Madmartigan said. I looked up at him. "You know why? Nobody cares." He paused and adjusted his position in the uncomfortable cage. "Except me," he went on, "And her…him." He pointed to me. "You want to go back to your families. _I_ want out of this cage! Let me take care of that baby. I'll look after her like she was my own."

I stared at him for a bit. "That has got to be the most honest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth," I commented, "You really mean that don't you?" I was utterly amazed when he nodded.

"He doesn't know anything about babies," Willow said.

"Right," Madmartigan said, "but she does. We could raise her together."

"Wait a minute," I said, "None of that house-wife crap! I'm not gonna play mother! You can be the mother."

"Just shut up, Johllee," he hissed. He turned back to the Nelwyns. "Please," he said, "Just give me some reason to go on living. You can't just leave us here to die." Technically, that could. They didn't have to set us free. The point is. They did. Madmartigan fell out of his cage just like last time, with a yelp and a laugh and a crazy, happy dance. He picked up Meegosh—who had knocked the lock off this time.

When the poor peck was on the ground again, Willow spoke up. "You've got to promise to feed her," he said.

Madmartigan went to the little baby. "Come to daddy, little darling," he said, picking her up.

"Hey, Meegosh," I said, "Forgetting some one?" The shy, little peck came and tried to pick the locks that kept me at bay. It took him a while but when I finally heard those oh-so-promising clicks from latches falling from their place and that weight was lifted from my arms and neck, I scooped the little Nelwyn up and hugged him so tightly I might have crushed him. "You are a wonderful creature!"

"Johllee," I heard Madmartigan say, "We're going now." He tossed me the backpack that carried the baby, though he was holding the little dear. He turned to the Nelwyns. "Boys, you've done the right thing. Now, I want you to go home and bring your crop in."

I set Meegosh down and shook his hand. "Thank you very much," I said. I went up to Madmartigan to look at the baby while I slung the pack over my shoulder. She was redheaded and had a dolls face. "She's so cute."

"Yeah cute," he said. He waved goodbye to the Nelwyns and we both started walking down a random road. Ah, the life of a wanderer. I touched my forehead and changed form. I was younger now, probably looked about nine or ten. Madmartigan gave me a skeptical look.

"You can be the homeless, widower father of two children," I said, "People might take pity on you and we could get free milk for her." He didn't look convinced. "It's worth a shot!"

It did work. We came across a group of hunters a ways down the road, so I faked being sick. He put the baby in her pack and told her to cry. She was quite an intelligent little darling. He carried me and I put on a dazzling performance as a sick child just as the men passed with all their weapons and gear and game. "Excuse me," Madmartigan said, sounding weary. He was not that bad an actor. "Please, could you spare a bit of food. We haven't eaten in days. My children are starving."

The one who seemed to be the leader stared at us, he looked at me distrustfully. I leaned against Madmartigan and coughed. "Dada," I said quietly, "Where's mama?" I made my voice tiny and high-pitched.

Madmartigan didn't hesitate. He ran a finger down the side of my face gently and shushed me. "Mama's gone away for a while," he told me. He turned back to the men. "Please. Just spare a little food."

It worked out well. They gave us a fair amount of meat and some water, the baby still had milk in the milk bladder Willow had given us. I dropped the little girl form once the hunters were far enough away—it's hard to make myself smaller, I have to compact what I'm made of. I became a dog again, a large German Shepherd. Madmartigan lit a campfire and cooked the deer meat we'd been given.

"I guess you're smarter than you seem, Johllee," he said, "That was a good idea."

The baby was playing with my ear and laughing. "I'm good at playing on people's pity," I said. I nuzzled her little cheek with my snout and she laughed. "What should we call her, Madmartigan? We can't just keep calling her baby."

"Um…how 'bout Sticks?" he said.

"I knew I shouldn't have asked."

"No, really," he said, "Sticks sounds like a good name. See watch." He picked up a twig and held it close to her. She glanced at it and hesitated before grabbing it and waving it up and down happily. "See, she likes Sticks."

"Fine, Sticks it is," I agreed. She poked my nose with the twig so I backed away. "I thought she looked more like an Elaine, or something." I lay down and rested my head on my paws. I wanted to sleep; the sun had set a while ago.

"Hey, look at this," Madmartigan said quietly, "I didn't know Blackroot grew in forests like this. I thought it grew near water." I looked up to see him chew on the end of a piece of Blackroot.

"There's a river nearby," I told him, "it empties out into a lake south of here." I pushed sand at him with my paw and lay down again. "Now go to sleep, _Dada_."

I woke up early the next morning to see that both Madmartigan and Sticks were asleep. I got up and shook out my fur, letting the cold air go through it. I stole up to Madmartigan silently as he slept and took the Blackroot and was hanging limply from his mouth and spat it away. In my opinion, you shouldn't have Blackroot anywhere near babies. Apparently it woke him up.

"What the hell did you do that for!" he said. I shushed him when Sticks stirred. She made a small yawn and stretched her tiny arms and then went still again.

"You shouldn't expose her to Blackroot, she's too young," I snapped quietly.

"I was _exposed_ to Blackroot when I was as young as her and I turned out fine," he said, "It's not like it could kill her, or anything."

"Anything that people can also smoke in a pipe shouldn't be put in your mouth," I said, "…Wait, you think you turned out fine? I think you need to get a better grasp on reality." I felt a sharp thump on my head. "Well, no need to be grumpy, gosh!"

"Now I know why you don't want to be a house wife," he said, "If you were a woman, no man in his right mind would share a child with you." He started walking away.

"Where are you going?" I said, "You need to watch Sticks."

"You watch her," he said, "nature calls."

I bit his leg and pulled him back. "I'm a dog, right now!" I said, "How am I supposed to take care of her?"

"Yeah? Well, I have to take a piss," he shot back, "I'll be back in a few minutes." He disappeared behind a few trees.

I started to get the strangest feeling that some one was watching me. I stayed close to Sticks and let her tug my ear as I looked around. I hoped that she hadn't woken up in time to hear Madmartigan. The last thing I wanted her to grow up saying was "I have to take a piss." I sighed and tried to relax a bit. Maybe a short walk would calm my nerves…The baby would be fine. I wandered not too far away and took a deep breath. I then heard a high-pitched giggle and a strange French accent.

"I stole the baby!" it shouted. I ran back just in time to see a brownie fly off on a hawk with Sticks in here pack grasped in the hawk's talons.

"Madmartigan!" I shouted, running after the bird. "Damn it all! You worthless Daikini!" He usually knew I was angry with him when I called him a Daikini of any sort. I was a man now. Tall, with long legs to run fast, but the bird got away. I stood for a moment staring after the spot where I lost sight of the creature. "I…hate…brownies."

Madmartigan walked up pulling tiny arrows out of his skin and clothes. "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

"Sticks just got nabbed," I said simply, "While you were 'taking a piss.' I hope you're happy."

"Oh terrific," he exclaimed, "I promised the little peck I'd take care of her!" He kicked at the dirt and threw himself on the ground, quite annoyed. He rested his head on his knees and pouted for about five minutes.

I raised an eyebrow after a while of just watching him. "Are you quite finished feeling sorry for yourself," I asked, "because you only had that baby for about twenty hours. You'll live without her. Come on, I think there's a town near here, and you need a drink…or two."

We found an inn in the next town where we stayed in a small room—which we weren't going to pay for, but the innkeeper doesn't need to know that. It took me the whole day to get Madmartigan back to his old self. He was quite drunk by midday and I wasn't too far behind. I don't remember much of what happened except that when I woke up next Madmartigan wasn't in the room and it was raining. My head hurt like hell, but that's irrelevant. I went out into the parlor and saw Madmartigan flirting with a…homely young woman. They both stood and disappeared up the stairs. I became a rat and followed them. I kind of wished I hadn't.

Now, leaving the details of Madmartigan's affairs with the woman out of this story, it soon became apparent that the woman's husband was coming. The woman put him in a dress and stuffed the front so he wouldn't be so flat chested and Madmartigan went to work applying makeup. Something rolled into the room unnoticed through a loose board in the wall. It was Willow.

"Hurry!" the woman demanded, "My husband's coming. If he finds you in here, he'll kill us both!"

Madmartigan dropped the bowl of face paint and turned around. He looked like a pretty woman…with a very thin mustache. "How do I look?" he asked his companion.

Willow looked dumbfounded. "Not you," he groaned.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Madmartigan said, putting his hands on his hips.

"I knew I shouldn't have trust you."

A brownie in his pocket spoke up then. "Do I know you," it said in a very familiar thick French accent. "I stole the baby from you, Daikini, while you were taking a pee-pee."

The woman shoved a cloth into his hands. "Cover your face!" she ordered. Madmartigan made some comment about the brownie and the woman let out a shriek. "Ah! I hate brownies!"

A giant of a man slammed the door open and entered. "Where is he!" he demanded, "Where?"

"Hello, dear," the woman said, "There's nobody here but me and my…uh, my…Cousin! Hilda." She grabbed Madmartigan's arm and pulled him forward just as he got his face covered. "Hilda, this is my husband, Llug."

Madmartigan's eyes widened for a half a second. "Oh, _big_ husband," he said, in a woman's voice. Llug started to get closer to him, apparently interested in another "woman" other than his wife. Madmartigan moved away. "How do you do?" he said, not dropping his voice. To get away from the approaching man he grabbed Sticks from Willow's arms—I hadn't noticed he had the baby until then.

I slipped out of the room and changed into a man. I waited a bit, listening. I heard the husband's deep voice. "Wanna breed?" he said, his tone rather disgusting. "Tempting, but no!" Madmartigan's reply was. "Thank you, time to leave." That's when I opened the door.

"Hilda!" I said, "There you are. I've been looking all over for you." Madmartigan looked relieved, that is until soldiers came and ushered us out of the room and into the corridor. I stuck near Willow and Madmartigan and saw some one very familiar. "That's Sorsha," I whispered to Madmartigan. I pointed out a female warrior. "She's Bavmorda's daughter."

Sorsha was apparently searching for a baby. "That baby over there," she said, her voice commanding, "Let me see its arm…that's not the one." A mother was pushed away as she clung to her child protectively. Sorsha approached Madmartigan. "Are you the mother of that child?" she asked him, motioning to the baby in his arms.

"Yes," he lied, still in a high-pitched voice. It was getting rather annoying at this point. "Yes I am."

"Let me see it."

"No!" Willow said, stepping in the way as Sorsha approached. "Don't let her!" The warrior princess pushed the peck out of the way and reached for the child.

"I gave you an order, woman!" she shouted, but Madmartigan pushed her away with force. Too much force.

"That's not womanly," I warned him in his ear.

Sorsha fell back, but quickly found her footing and righted herself. She took her helmet off and stabbed her sword into the ground, as an attempt to be intimidating. I tell you, when a woman that good-looking is _that_ powerful, it's pretty damn scary. Madmartigan almost let his cover fall away from his face. "You…" he began, then he remember he was supposed to be a woman. "You're beautiful." was all he added. I sighed, hoping he didn't fall for the woman.

"And you're very strong," she said, not meaning it as a compliment, but hey! Comments are usually open to interpretation.

"Thank you," Madmartigan said. It really was Madmartigan, in being that he no longer had "Hilda's" voice. Oops!

Sorsha narrowed her eyes and contemplated him for a moment. I knew he'd be found out. "You're no woman," she said. What did I tell you? She ripped the cloth from his head and let his long, messy hair fall about his shoulders. He smirked.

Llug was behind him, obviously ticked off. "Not a woman!" he roared. His wife tried to calm him. "Not a woman?"

"Gentlemen," Madmartigan said with a shrug as Llug continued to let his anger vent. "Meet Llug." He and I stepped away just in time to not be pulverized by the husband on a rampage. Madmartigan took the baby and ran to the stairs--with me and a lot of angry shouts following.

I found that following him was easier said then done, so I just bailed out of there as soon as I could. I ran out onto the road and hid as far away from the inn as I could and still be able to see the wagon that Madmartigan was stealing. I was about to follow them when I felt a gloved hand pull me back. A Nockmaar soldier had noticed me leaving. I kicked him in the stomach and turned to run, but he grabbed my ankle as he fell over. I touched my forehead and changed into a snake in his grasp. I was a king cobra. He yelled in fear and released me. He'd obviously never seen a shapeshifter before.

I got away and gave myself lizard-like feet and scurried in the direction I had seen the wagon go. The tall grass was impossible to see over, so I simply wandered for a while. It was about ten minutes of wandering that dulled my senses with boredom. I didn't even hear the voices, and therefore I was almost stepped on.

"…And you're ten times bigger than I am, stupid!" I heard just I time to alert me to a very familiar boot that would've squashed my tiny lizard's body. I recognized the boot and the voice well enough to know that Willow and Madmartigan had gotten away. "Are you trying to make my life more difficult than it already is?" Madmartigan snapped.

"He better be!" I shouted, changing into a huge wolf. I pounced on Madmartigan and growled in his face. "Watch where you're stepping, gosh!" I heard dog's barking and changed again. My woman shape that I'd grown accustomed to crouched low in the grass next to Willow and Madmartigan. The brownie from before and his friend walked through the grass to us. I saw the baby and smiled. Even Madmartigan seemed at least a little bit happy to know she was all right. He tried to hide it.

"Yeah," he said, "Well I helped you get away. Don't expect my help again." He stood and I noticed that he was still wearing the dress, except around his waist like a skirt.

"I could make that pants, if you'd like," I offered. He didn't answer.

Franjean, the French brownie spoke up. "Good," he said, "Now we go that way, to the lake!" He pointed in a random direction.

Rool, the other one, tapped his shoulder and shook his head. "That way," he said, pointing more to the east.

Franjean turned to him with an unhappy expression. "You are drunk," he told him, "And when you are drunk you forget that I am in charge!"

"You are in charge," Rool agreed, "Then which way do we go?"

Franjean pointed the direction Rool had pointed out. "That way!"

Madmartigan gave a frustrated yell. "Oh no!" he said, "That's the way I'm going! All right, all right, you can follow me as far as the lake, but that's it." He turned to go, but then turned back. "You're not going south are you?"

"No, no," Willow assured him, "Just as far as the lake."

"Good," Madmartigan said.

I turned to the brownies. "Mumbo. Jumbo," I addressed them, "I am hungry. Go get me some eggs or something."

They both held their heads high. "We are not afraid of you," they said together.

"Now!" I yelled, adding a bit of a lion's roar in with it. They shrieked and ran to fulfill my commands. "You know, maybe having brownies around can be slightly beneficial."

We found a clearing in the woods that night to make camp. "Is it illegal to camp here, Madmartigan?" He didn't reply to my taunt, just started the fire. Willow was tending to the baby. I was minding my own business, being a dog. For some reason I always felt right being a dog when I was near a campfire or fireplace.

"Good night," I heard Willow say to the baby.

"She is kind of cute," I said. I looked over at her and she giggled a little before yawning.

"When she's quiet," Madmartigan added. I couldn't disagree with him on that. No one really likes a noisemaker.

"She's really a princess," Willow said. I perked up at this, but Madmartigan had to be his rude self.

"Really?" he said mockingly, "And you're a great sorcerer. And I'm the king of Cashmere. Go to sleep, Willow." I hit his foot as he lay down and rested my head on my paws. I fell asleep shortly after that. When I woke up from my strange dream—mother, rats, and brownie-sized Madmartigans—Willow was in a tree. How he got there: not an inkling.

After a morning adventure of getting him down we set off again. We found the small river that emptied out into the lake and followed it. Willow found it necessary to make a pitstop at a pound fueled by a small waterfall. Madmartigan was watching the baby while Willow cleaned her changing rags. I just watched letting the mist hit the face of my man shape.

"What are you doing?" Willow asked Madmartigan.

I looked up to see that the Daikini was feeding her something. "I found some Blackroot. She loves it," he replied. I slapped my head with my palm and sighed.

"Blackroot!" Willow exclaimed, "I am the father of two children, and you never, ever give a baby Blackroot."

Madmartigan just leaned closer to him, challengingly. "Well, my mother raised us on Blackroot," he said, "It's good for you. Puts hair on your chest! Doesn't it, Sticks?"

Willow looked like he'd had enough. "Her name's not Sticks!" he shouted over the noise of the waterfall, "She's Elora Danan, the future empress of Tir Asleen. And the last thing she's gonna want is a hairy chest!" He snatched the Blackroot from him and tossed it in the pond.

Elora whimpered a little. "Did you see what he did?" Madmartigan said in a babying voice, "He stole our Blackroot. I'll get you some more, don't worry about it." He kissed her forehead and I suddenly felt as though he were he father. He could probably be a father if he had the right woman beside him. I was just hoping that he didn't chase after Sorsha.

It was about midday when we saw the lake before us. There were no more Blackroot incidents, but I found that Sticks was getting more and more excited. I poked Madmartigan in the shoulder. "That's why you never give a baby Blackroot," I said, "That's why you're jacked up as an adult."

"We made it," I heard Willow say. I was still a man, and about as tall as Madmartigan as I stood next to him. I heard to brownies mention Fin Raziel.

"What about Fin Raziel?" I asked. I was getting more and more convinced that this was the baby from the prophecy. Willow was walking fast and didn't take time to answer. I was very confused about all this. Probably as confused as you, my loyal reader, but please don't give up yet. Fin Raziel was a great sorceress who was banished by Queen Bavmorda. I didn't know the woman was still alive.

We approached an abandoned fishing village and Madmartigan and I decided to scavenge for anything of value. He found nothing, as did I. "Well," he said, "Looks like we got you here."

"You?" Franjean said, "What did you do?"

Rool cocked his head to the side. "All you did was hang around and eat our eggs."

"I found a boat," Willow called, "We're all set."

"Good," I muttered approaching him. "Take those two lizards out and drown them." I felt a tiny spear poke through my boot into my ankle. "Ouch!"

"Who are you calling lizards, huh?" Franjean demanded, "Your mother was a lizard."

I looked down at the tiny man, but was suddenly not in the mood for a snappy reply. I'm usually okay until you bring my mother into the conversation. Madmartigan grabbed my shoulders as if to stop me from doing something stupid. "Hey," he said to the pipsqueaks, "Mind what you say about a persons mother, you mice." He and I ignored any further comment from the brownies and turned to say farewell to Elora.

"Goodbye, Sticks," Madmartigan said. The little girl looked like she was about to cry. I played with her little hand. "If you really are a princess," he whispered, "take care of him." He nodded his head in Willow's direction.

He stood to walk away, but I lingered. "When you're older," I said, "Come find me. I'll give you all the Blackroot you want." She giggled sadly and I kissed her little cheek. "See ya, Sticks." I followed Madmartigan.

Willow's voice begged us to halt. "Guys!" he called. We both apparently had glares on out faces, trying to hide our reluctance to leave the poor child. Willow laughed nervously. "Thanks," he said.

Madmartigan gave a funky wave goodbye and chewed a piece of Blackroot he pulled out of thin air. I smiled and nodded to Willow. "Until we meet again, peck!" I called and turned. Soon the village disappeared behind us and we were in the woods again. "Madmartigan," I said after a while of silence, "Do you think she really is a princess?"

"She's the baby from that prophecy you told me about," he said simply.

I was a bit surprised by that. I thought he didn't believe it. "What do you mean?" I asked. "How would you know that?"

"I'm not sure," he said, "something about her told me. Hell, maybe she told me herself, I haven't got a clue." I noticed that he was walking awkwardly in the pants that were made from his dress.

"You know, you should've tried to find some proper pants back at the village," I said, "You look like a monkey right now."

"Stop," he said, quietly, he had come to a sudden stop. He was listening to something, though what, I couldn't say. Then I heard the very faint voices on the wind. I couldn't identify what they really were. They could've been animals for all I knew. "Why do I have the feeling that there's Nockmaar soldiers near by?"

I heard soldiers and that was it. That's all I needed to hear to get me to bail out of there. I didn't even stick around to say goodbye to Madmartigan. I ran in a direction that I didn't know what lay at the end of my journey. I heard a few things as I ran. Madmartigan yelling after me, surprised by my flight and the sounds of a scrap that followed close behind. I didn't think about what would happen to Madmartigan, I just knew that I wasn't going to be a slave again, and that's all a soldier meant to me. Slavery…

_**Madmartigan**_

Johllee and I…I thought we were pals, you know? Always there for each other, no matter what shape she—he's in. We'd go places together, get in trouble together, get caught together, even take care of a baby together…for a little while. We were heading south together after leaving Sticks with Willow and those two rats. So he was a slave before, I get that, he's traumatized. Still, did he have to sell me out like that? He just left me there without a word of warning. Sorsha and her little band of toy soldiers…well let's just remind you that I am nothing without a sword.

"Take anything of value from him," I heard a general say. They pushed me face first into the sand; it took four men (and that I'm rather proud of). "Kill him then."

"No!" it was a woman this time…Sorsha. She rode up on her horse, all high-and-mighty. I felt like spitting at her, if my mouth wasn't full of sand at the moment. "He was protecting the peck in that inn the other day, wasn't he? The woman." They had taken my shirt, muttering something having to do with warm cloth and my being undeserving, but left my boots. My pants—that had once been my dress—were deteriorating quickly. "Doesn't look much like a woman anymore. Find out where the Nelwyn is from him. We'll keep him as a slave."

"Slave!" I exclaimed, "I'll give you slave you insufferable—" My words were cut off when I felt some one pull me up…by my hair mostly. I knew I should've gotten that haircut. My hands were bound in front of me. I thought I saw Johllee's woman shape out of the corner of my eye, but there wasn't much hope left from me to him. I changed my attention to Sorsha, the evil, warrior princess. She was trotting away, apparently to continue the search.

"Where's the peck?" I heard in my ear. I could tell this wasn't going to end well. I hesitated, thinking of what to do. What would Johllee do? He was pretty good at getting out of situations like this. I elbowed the man behind me—the one holding my arms still—right in the gut and took off running like a bat out of hell. There was a cry behind me and shortly, feet were running after me—and probably all that was connected to those feet, but I didn't care to look.

I might've gotten maybe ten yards running like that. Then I felt a sharp pain in my back, like some one had kicked me, which knocked me forward. I didn't even have time to hit the ground before hands tore me off my feet. I was thrown onto my back, then kicked in the stomach…ouch, just remembering it makes my stomach hurt. I lost count of the blows; a lot hit my back as well, so I just tried to cover my head. Suddenly there were no more impacts. Something touched my shoulder and I flinched, expecting to be hit again, but it was just a rough nudge (probably to see if I was still alive). The general pulled my hands from above my head and dragged me to my feet.

"I'll not ask you again," he said, "Where's the peck?"

Now, I may be stubborn, but to say I'm stupid is just cruel. It would probably not really save my neck if I told them—even though slavery was better than death in my opinion. And if that baby was the one from that prophecy, then she could save country. I decided that I wouldn't tell. That is until I saw the whip.

I don't believe I could honestly say that I had ever felt something so truly painful up until then—that is, not including any wound caused by war. Two men held my arms still and made sure I didn't fall. I think around the fourth lash—my mind didn't want to count, but it did anyway—I could almost hear my skin break. I tried to push the two men that held me away, but they didn't even flinch. Five more cracks (I wasn't counting the impacts, mind you, they hurt too much) and I felt my knees almost buckle. My back was on fire and my head was pounding as blood rushed through me, and apparently out of cuts in my back. "Stop!" I said, it's kind of embarrassing, but I was pleading, "Please, I'll take you to him."

"I don't want you to take us to him," the general said, "I want you to tell me where he is." There was a pause before I felt he whip again. I cried out, not really prepared for that one.

"He's not far!" I said, "Down by the lake. You might need me to find him." I felt a little sick, half from the fact that my entire body ached and the other half from the fact that I was betraying the peck…I guess I considered the little guy a friend.

"I doubt we'll need him," I heard the general mutter. There was a silence as I leaned heavily on the two that held me. Before I tried to get away from them, but now I relied on them to keep me standing. "We'll take him anyway." A pause. I almost expected another lash, but thank God it never came.

They had some one clean off my wounds, though they weren't the least bit gentle about it. Then I was on a horse, directing my enemy to my friend. It didn't take long for the surroundings to grow familiar when we came to the fork in the road, and I suddenly wondered if I could trick them. I glanced up at the general, but apparently he was no fool. "Don't even try it," he hissed, reading my mind. I glared at him and pointed the right direction with both hands—they were still bound.

Then there was the abandoned village. I thought I heard two high-pitched voices and a thought came to my head. _If these soldiers don't get rid of the two brownies, I'm gonna run and not look back. _This was a good thought…for a while. And_ get caught and have the whole ordeal start over. No thanks._

I saw a little figure in one of the hunts and silently wished Willow would go back inside and not be seen, but he was seen and they entire company approached him. My horse was right at the front with the general and I felt, for probably the first time in my life, ashamed of something I had done.

"I knew he was a _traitor_!" I heard Franjean yell in his squeaky, little voice. Next him and Rool was a possum, or something.

I looked back at Willow and tried to give him a smile, though it probably didn't look too good, being that I was still in pain and that kind of contorted my movements. "Sorry about this, peck."

"Keep your mouth shut!" the general snarled. Just as I turned to look at him his fist met my jaw and I literally flew from the horse. When I had landed, aside from my throbbing jaw, I felt a little better. Maybe I just wasn't used to riding a horse. "I told you we'd find him without your help."

Such a lie! Who helped you at the fork in the road, huh? Thankless monsters, all of them are! I heard Sticks crying and looked over to see Willow struggling to keep a hold on the child as they took her from him. They put the possum in a sack, but the brownies were nowhere to be seen. "This is the one we're looking for," why does that voice sound painfully familiar? "We must take it back to Nockmaar." Damn…Sorsha's back…

As I lie helpless on the ground in naught but my boots and a ragged, old skirt I came to wonder, why the hell didn't I think there was something strange about Nelwyns out here in the first place? Then I wouldn't be in this mess. "Lose your skirt?" I heard her say from above me.

I stood up, as nimbly as I could and walked towards her, only slightly unsteady. "I've still got what counts," I said to her coolly. For a second I thought she was going to leave me alone. So much for wishful thinking.

"Not for long," she said. She turned herself and leaned forward a little as if to whisper something to me. Her leg then shot up and I felt a sharp kick across my jaw and nose. I tried to glare at her as I stepped back and clenched my sore cheek. "Bring him," she ordered and guided her horse away. I was about to do something stupid like run after her and knock her off her horse when I was grabbed from behind and thrown back on my horse…Well, it wasn't really _my_ horse, but he seemed to like me better than the general, who was holding the reigns.

I was getting cold, the days had become unusually chilly of late, and my butt was hurting from the stupid horse. How long had we been riding? A few hours, probably. Sooner or later, it had come to the knowledge of one of them that I was shivering violently. They gave me a proper outfit then, but I wasn't allowed to ride the horse anymore. I didn't mind one bit. That horse was killer on the backside. I was fitted with an iron collar, which had a chain that was connected to the back of a wagon. Surprisingly enough, Willow was in that same predicament by the time I got there. He glared at me coldly, but I couldn't hold his gaze.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't think he'd want to hear what I had to say at the moment, but it made me feel better anyway. "It's not like I went looking for them just to get you in trouble. I like Sticks too much to hand her over to them."

I noticed he was stumbling to keep up with the wagon. His legs were too short. "Her name is not Sticks!" he said, waving his hands in frustration. I noticed that they weren't bound like mine. "Her name is Elora Danan, I told you that."

"I know, I know," I said to get him to be quiet. "Me and Johllee called her Sticks when you gave her to use at the crossroads. Even you didn't know her name then." He didn't reply, though I could tell by his face that he wasn't pissed off anymore. I looked straight ahead and saw that possum from before in a triangular cage. "What's with the rat?"

"I am not a rat!" At first I didn't realize that the voice had come from the animal. I didn't think a voice that loud and commanding could come from the throat of a rodent. "I am the great sorceress Fin Raziel. You would do well to respect that."

"You're a possum," I countered, "very frightening."

"No, she really is," Willow said, "She's trying to teach me magic so I can turn her back to her human self. Bavmorda transformed her."

I raised and eyebrow and examined the rat. It was fat and fuzzy. Two things I dislike about animals. "Some great sorceress." Then I heard a baby crying from somewhere ahead of us. "That's Sticks," I muttered.

"I'm worried about her," Willow said, "she doesn't sound too good."

"Hurry, Willow," Raziel said, "practice the chant I taught you."

"Tana…" he began, "Looatha…Oh, I can't remember that middle part."

"Locktwaar! That's the word that begs for change!"

I heard a horse coming up and looked back to see Sorsha's unmistakable helmet. I switched places with Willow to get him on the side away from the horse so he wouldn't be trampled. The horse didn't get close to me though. I was kind of hoping she'd be within biting distance.

"Elora's cold and hungry," Willow told Sorsha in pleading voice, "She knows me. Please, let me take care of her."

Sorsha sneered and looked down at him. "I don't need help from a peck," she snapped. Then she looked at me. "What are you staring at?"

I hadn't noticed I was staring until she said something, so I just decided to come up with some smart remark. "Your leg," I stated simply, "I'd like to break it."

She had the smallest hint of a smile on her face. "You may find that difficult, slave," she said, "while I'm up here and you're down there." She gave me a cheeky look and then rode of for the front of the company.

"I hate that woman," I muttered. Now, I try not to _hate_ people. I say I hate people, but I usually don't mean it. In this case, I hated that horrifying woman. At least…I thought I did.

It's amazing how often I find myself locked in a cage of some sorts. This time, though I had company. Willow sat next to me, making some weird potion in a broken bowl and muttering some weird chant as he did so. I caught this rancid scent in the air and looked over his shoulder. The stench got stronger. "That's magic?" I asked, "Smells terrible."

"It's the life spark," he explained, "it forms after—"

I wasn't in the mood to hear some stupid lecture about some stupid, useless trick. I wasn't in a good mood. "Well, it stinks!" I interrupted him, "This whole thing stinks!" I believe the reason for my bad mood was—besides that horrid smell—I couldn't keep my mind off of Sorsha, for some reason. Whether it was planning her death, or admiring her beauty…and she _was_ so beautiful. _Stop it! You hate her!_ I kept telling myself.

"Ignore him, Willow," the rat said. Her cage was hanging on a protruding from the ground. "He's a fool."

I chose to ignore that comment, being that it was probably true. "If only I had a sword," I said, miming a sword's blade with my hands.

"If only you'd quit talking about it," Willow snapped. Was everyone against me tonight, or what?

"Willow," Raziel said before I could hit the little peck, "You must transform me to my human self! And you'd better be ready, now. Madmartigan, get me down from here!"

"Oh, great, I'm being bossed around by a rodent," I muttered under my breath. I could just reach a long stick, not too far away in the snow on the ground. I tried to get it into the loop at the top of her cage, and almost succeeded. I lifted my head to fast and heard a loud clank before I even felt anything. I dropped the stick and the cage fell—it cracked open and the rat just scurried into out prison. "Ow!" I exclaimed, sitting back and holding my head. "Why don't you help me get out of here," I said to Willow, "instead of chattering with that muskrat?"

"Muskrat," Raziel spat, obviously offended. "When I change back to my former self, I will crush this army and take Elora Danan to Tir Asleen where she will be safe. Madmartigan, I'm warning you, do not mock me!" I thought for a second she was going to bite me, but she bit Willow instead.

"What'd bite me for?" the peck complained.

"You need three drops of your blood to put in the potion."

"You could've warned me."

I scoffed and looked around the camp. "For beginners, there's some pain," Raziel went on, "but don't let anything break your concentration."

Willow rubbed the potion onto the wand and looked at it uncertainly. He then began his chant. "Hither greenan bairn claideb lunanockt," he recited slowly. Then I heard two familiar and annoying voices.

"Hello everybody!" Franjean said as he ran up. "We have arrived!"

Rool came up shortly after that. "You are saved!"

We all shushed them. "Don't interrupt," Raziel said quietly. Willow repeated his chant again and I couldn't help but voice my wonder. "What're you gonna look like if this works?" I asked the rat. She told me not to interrupt.

Willow repeated again, trying to ignore other voices. "I am a beautiful, young woman," Raziel said quietly, yet with pride. The wand in Willow's hand began to glow a bright blue. That's something I hadn't seen before. He repeated. The rat started to walk around in a circle. "Willow! You're losing me!" The rat was gone as quickly as one of Johllee's shapes and a ball of feathers replaced it.

Willow was repeating the chant again, but his voice was strained. He tried to repeat it again, but cut off and fell over. I caught him as he dropped the wand and clutched his wrist. "You all right?" I asked, "That was a nice try, Willow."

I heard a cawing noise and the ball of feathers twitched and unfurled to reveal a sleek, black crow. "Farmers!" Raziel spat, "Cherlindrea sends me_ farmers!_"

"I'm sorry, Raziel," Willow said meekly.

"You want out?" one of the brownies said, attracting our attention. "Easy, we can pick a lock." I thought this was great, and for once respected the tiny men. Then they started arguing.

I sighed and went over to them. "Let me do it," I said, "out of the way, rodents." It took hold of the tiny spear that Franjean had already put in the lock. The brownie told me to get away, but I wasn't paying attention until he smacked me in the face with a bag of something. I rubbed dust out of my eyes and was about to kill them when I suddenly felt the best I had in forever. I don't really remember much of what happened next. It all seemed like a dream. We were released from the cage and went to find Sticks—er—Elora. She was in Sorsha's tent. I went in to nab the baby and run, but I was distracted by a very beautiful, sleeping Sorsha. When she woke up, I for some reason put aside the fact that she almost castrated me and starting saying stupid, poetic things to her. Oh wow! Did I kiss her? Ew…Anyway, we got away in the nick of time via riding a shield like a sled, and the next thing I remember is that I slammed into the wall of a house and was released from a giant snowball that had gathered around me as I rolled down the snow covered hill. My mind was suddenly cleared.

"Madmartigan!" I heard beside me. I looked over to see Willow holding the baby. I rubbed my head.

"What the hell happened up there?" I asked.

"You started spouting poetry," Willow replied. Poetry? "Yeah. 'I love you, Sorsha! I worship you, Sorsha!' You almost got us killed!" He kicked snow at me, though at the time I had no idea what he was talking about.

"'I love you, Sorsha?' I don't love her," I said, "She kicked me in the face! I hate her." Then again, is that really any reason to hate some one? "Don't I?" A crow flew on to the roof and yelled "Kael" in a squeaky, crackly voice.

Some one in a watchtower shouted something about Nockmaar soldiers and the entire village that we had landed it went nuts. Everyone was screaming and running to hide. I grabbed the first man that came past us. "They're after us," I said, "we need a place to hide." I was so very glad he didn't turn us away. He led us to a house and down a trapdoor. We were in a basement of sorts that was filled with people. I walked in slowly, looking warily from face to face. I felt some one grab my shoulder.

"I knew you'd get out of that rattrap," Airk said when I saw him. He looked like he'd been through hell, but I was a bit too angry with him to pity him.

I grabbed both his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "You left me to die, Airk," I reminded him.

"I probably saved your life," he said. Really? That's not what it sounded like to me. "We were slaughtered and I lost a lot of good—" He was cut off when the man who'd led us down here shushed him.

Everyone got tense when the door above us slammed open and light footsteps were heard. Some one knocked over a table and scared Sticks. She started crying loudly and we all thought that was the end, but a crow flew into the house cawing. It was mimicking the baby's cry. Willow managed to pacify the child. I looked up through the floorboards and saw Sorsha. I caught myself wishing she'd take her helmet off so I could see her hair. She looked around and I lost sight of her a few times. When she finally found the trapdoor beneath a rug, we all stepped away from the stairs. The trapdoor creaked open. Airk passed me a dagger because I was closest to the stairs. I first saw the tip of her sword appear from behind the wall I was hiding behind. Then slowly her arm came. I grabbed it and pulled her against me, holding her arm behind her back and the dagger at her throat.

She had cried out and a few of her toy soldiers began to come down the stairs. As soon as they saw Sorsha, they stopped. "Back!" I commanded them. They obliged. This brought a smile to my face. It's amazing what a hostage can do for a situation. I backed them up the stairs and out of the house, then took Sorsha over to the window to see what was going on. "Nockmaar scum," I muttered, seeing many women and children being run out of their homes.

"You'll never defeat us!" Sorsha hissed, "Give up the baby!"

"Shut up!" I said covering her mouth. Her skin was actually very soft. She now had use of both her hands, but I think the dagger at her throat scared her enough to make her semi-obedient. There was that crow again, and I knew that must've been Raziel, but she was flying around, making threatening noises, though she obviously couldn't do anything but peck out an eye or two. I heard a woman scream over the sound of battle and Airk came to sit next to me.

"I've lost more than half my men fighting Bavmorda," he said, "this peck tells me you and him are gonna take her on. You always told me you served no one, Madmartigan. Since when are you a crusader?" He raises a very good point. I didn't reply. "He's not gonna help you get to Tir Asleen, peck. He's a worthless thief."

"I'm not a thief, Airk," I said. Well, maybe I should've said, "I'm not worthless" instead and it would've been more truthful. Still, the peck started to back me up, so I couldn't take it back.

"He's not a thief," Willow said. Then he paused and looked at me. "Are you?"

I looked at him, but made not attempt to answer. I could feel Sorsha's chest move up and down with her breathing as I held her, constantly threatening her with the dagger. I got to thinking: What if this peck was right? If I could help them get to Tir Asleen and the baby was safe there, I could be a hero—along with Willow, of course. "I serve the Nelwyn, Airk," I told him, "You want to come with us?"

He shook his head. "You'll never make it, Madmartigan," he said.

"Then once again we say good bye," I said. I pulled Sorsha with me out the door and tried to be quiet about mounting a horse with her in my arms. I put her up first, and in that instant that the dagger was way from her she shouted again. "Over here!" she called to her army.

I saw people running toward us once I'd mounted behind her. I pressed the blade against her throat and addressed all of them. "Weapons down, or she's dead," I ordered. They all did as I said. Once I saw Willow mount a horse (which I'm quite amazed he did on his own), I took off out of the village.

I can't say I particularly enjoyed riding horses yet, but I managed to ride through the night. I wasn't tired anyway. Sorsha slept, though, and that gave me the chance to stow the dagger Airk had given me. As soon as morning broke, as if on cue, Sorsha awoke and I was sure to keep my arm tightly around her. We followed the bird that was Raziel.

"You're holding me too tight!" Sorsha complained at about midday. She tried to loosen my grip, but I didn't let up.

"Well, I don't want you to get away," I said.

"Why?" she shot back, "because I'm you're sun? You're moon? You're starlit sky?"

It took me a second or two to realize that she was talking about the day before…in her tent…Now I began to remember some of the things I said. I felt her hair tickling my nose and tried to move it out of my way with my chin. "Get your hair out of my face or I'll chop it off," I threatened. I really wouldn't have. I liked her hair on her too much. I hesitated before I went on. "Did I really—" I began, "did I really say those things last night? In your tent?"

"You said you loved me."

"I don't remember _that_."

"You lied to me!" she growled. It seemed like she was trying to end the conversation.

"No," I said to her, "I just wasn't myself yesterday."

She laughed quietly. "I suppose my power enchanted you and you were helpless against it," she mocked. That I remembered saying. What was I thinking? I don't really know what caused that mood though, so she could've been right.

"Um, sort of."

"Then what?"

"It went away."

That made her mad for some reason. "It went away?" she repeated, "'I dwell in darkness without you' and it went away?" I nodded. She thought it best to end the conversation with an elbow to my stomach. She jumped from the horse, and I followed and chased after her.

I'm glad I was the faster runner. I caught her and managed to tackle her to the ground. I pinned her hands above her head. She stopped struggling and just glared up at me. I was looking down at her and was about to make threaten her if she did that again. I found I couldn't say anything Her eyes softened for a moment, or I think they did. For a moment she wasn't the evil Sorsha that had kicked me in the face. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen…For a moment. The bird interrupted my thoughts. "Hurry! Kael's coming!"

Sorsha tried to get up, but I pulled her up by her wrists and tried to drag her back over to my horse. She was being difficult. I heard Willow tell me to hurry, so I picked her up, trying to hold her legs as best I could. She punched my collarbone and kicked my leg, causing me to fall. That's when she really did get away. I tried to chase after her again, but Willow kept telling me to hurry. I let her go and ran to my horse. When I looked back she had stopped to look at me. Then she just turned and ran, glancing back only once more. I rode my horse in the opposite direction.


End file.
